


Better Off With You

by QueenofDuctTape



Series: Hermione's Nook - A Very Potter Advent Calendar [11]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Tree, F/M, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-30
Updated: 2019-11-30
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:39:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21622357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenofDuctTape/pseuds/QueenofDuctTape
Summary: Rose Weasley returns home for Christmas after her first term at Hogwarts, worried that things will be different, but it turns out that the best things remain the same.
Relationships: Hermione Granger & Ron Weasley
Series: Hermione's Nook - A Very Potter Advent Calendar [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1534016
Comments: 4
Kudos: 12
Collections: A Very Potter Advent Calendar





	Better Off With You

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Hermione's Nook 2019 Advent Calendar. I hope you all enjoy reading and have a wonderful holiday season this year (and every year)!

## 

## December 20th, 2017

Rose Weasley couldn't wait for Christmas. Her first term at Hogwarts had been wonderful, but she missed her parents more than she had thought she would. The excitement of finally being there and adjusting to her new dorm and new classes carried her through the first week, but as she got used to falling asleep to the sounds of her dorm mates gentle breathing (and occasional snoring), she felt an inexplicable longing to be home instead and fall asleep to the familiar sounds of the wind and the occasional creaking of floorboards as her parents moved around the house. The first term had somehow both dragged on and flown by, but now she was back on the Hogwarts Express, speeding towards London. She spent the train ride playing Gobstones with Albus and a few of their other year mates and the train ride practically flew by. As they were walking out onto the platform, Rose was struck with a sudden moment of anxiety. What if while she’d been away her family had realized they got along better without her? In addition to the ginger hair, Rose had inherited the infamous Weasley temper. Hugo was so much more even-tempered. Rose fought with their mother all the time. What if they wished Hugo was an only child? Maybe Rose should have just stayed at Hogwarts for the holiday. Then the Granger-Weasley family could finally have a picture-perfect Christmas, without her typical fight with her mom and the subsequent epic sulk. Rose resolved to be on her best behavior this Christmas as she scanned the crowded platform for her family. 

“ROSIE!” Her brother’s voice somehow projected over the din. Rose had really thought she could have spotted them first, with her father’s vivid hair and the fact that he stood head and shoulders above the rest of the crowd, but of course her brother's Seeker’s eyesight had sought out her, a small-statured first year, before she could lay eyes on them. 

Rose’s spirits lifted again as she looked in the direction of the shout and she spotted her parents beaming and waving at her. She waved back eagerly but was suddenly tackled by a blue blur. She laughed as she and Hugo fell down in a tangle of limbs. 

“You have to tell me everything, Rosie!” Hugo exclaimed breathlessly. “What’s Ravenclaw tower like? Did you bring back pictures? Have you ever gotten stuck outside because you can’t answer the riddle? What am I saying, of course you haven’t, you’re brilliant! Are you top in all your classes? Is History really taught by a ghost? How does he grade your homework if he can’t interact with the parchment or quills?” 

“Slow down, Hugo!” Rose stood up and got a better look at her brother, realizing that he was wearing all of the Ravenclaw paraphernalia that he could find, which wasn’t much considering they came from a family full of Gryffindors. He appeared to be wearing an old Quidditch jersey that he must have gotten at the thrift store, since Rose didn’t recognize the name, and Aunt Audrey’s old Ravenclaw scarf in addition to blue jeans and a blue cloak that was entirely the wrong shade of blue. Luckily, Rose was sure that Hugo would be a shoo-in for Ravenclaw once he got to Hogwarts. She wasn’t sure he’d be able to handle the shock if he was placed somewhere else.

By the time she had answered a few questions to her brother’s satisfaction, Ron and Hermione Weasley had caught up to their children. Rose found herself almost unable to breathe as she was caught up in a hug by both of her parents. Her mother’s shoulder was pressed uncomfortably into her neck, and her nose wound up almost in her father’s armpit, but Rose didn’t care and hugged them back just as fiercely.

“Ready to head home?” her dad asked and Rose beamed back at him. 

* * *

## December 21st, 2017

“Oh good, Rosie, you’re up!” Ron Weasley sent his daughter a lopsided grin as she entered the kitchen. 

“I smelled bacon.” Rose grinned back at her dad, who winked. 

“Hurry up and eat and get dressed,” he told her. “We’re expected at the Burrow at ten.”

Rose scrunched her face. “I’m almost twelve now,” she informed her father. “Don’t you think I’m too old for Grandma Molly to need to babysit while you’re at work? And doesn’t the shop open at eight?” 

“I’m not dropping you off while I’m at work,” Ron said. “I’m taking the day off and we’re picking up your grandpa to help us pick out a tree.”

“We’re going to the tree farm!” Hugo exclaimed, looking up from his own plate of eggs and bacon. 

“Is it the tree farm where you pick a tree and then cut it down yourself?” Rose asked apprehensively. 

Hugo nodded eagerly. “And this year Dad says I’m big enough to help use the saw!” 

“Are you sure that’s safe?” Rose asked. 

Hugo pouted. “I’m the same age as you when they started letting you use the saw!” he protested. “And I’m as big as you are _now_.”

Rose shook her head. “You’re fine, Hugh. Do you really think it’s safe to let Grandpa Arthur use a muggle saw?”

* * *

As it turned out, it was _not_ safe to let Arthur Weasley use a muggle saw. But what would Christmas be without a Weasley family trip to St. Mungo’s Hospital?

* * *

## December 23rd, 2017

“Rose, do you want to come with Aunt Ginny and me?” Hermione Weasley called up the stairs. 

“Where are you going?”

“Last minute Christmas shopping.”

Rose came downstairs to find her mum and her Aunt Ginny putting on their coats by the door. A great din was coming from the kitchen, and Rose looked over. Her cousins James and Lily were seated at the island and she could see her dad wearing his “Kiss the Cook” apron. 

“And what are they doing in there?”

Aunt Ginny grinned wickedly. “Baking Christmas cookies,” she told her. 

Rose grinned. “I’ll stay.” 

Hermione and Ginny left through the front door and shortly thereafter Rose heard the _CRACK!_ Indicating they had apparated away. She wandered into the kitchen. 

“Happy Christmas, Rosie!” Uncle Harry greeted her. 

“Happy Christmas, Uncle Harry!” Rose grinned. Some of the kids at school who idolized Harry Potter should see him now, she thought. It didn’t look like any baking had actually started yet, but somehow he was already covered in flour, with clumps smudged on his glasses, and his hair was decidedly salt-and-pepper rather than its usual jet black. 

“So,” he said, rubbing his hands together, with a sparkle in his eye. “A competition then? Weasleys versus Potters?”

“No!” exclaimed the three Potter children, at the same time as Rose and Hugo cried “Yes!” 

Uncle Harry looked a bit put out while Ron laughed. 

“What if,” Ron suggested, “we all bake the cookies, and then have a competition for decorating them?”

It was soon agreed that they would bake together and then have a decorating competition, which would be judged by Ginny and Hermione upon their return. 

The Potters won, largely due to Lily’s fantastic artistic skills, but at least all the cookies were edible, Rose reflected. The initial batch had to be scrapped early on when Uncle Harry mixed up the salt and sugar, but Hugo caught him when he almost mixed up the baking powder and the baking soda in the second batch. Even then, that wouldn’t be too much of a disaster. What Rose didn’t understand was how Uncle Harry could be such a terrible baker when everyone knew he was a wonderful cook. Weren’t they similar skill sets?

* * *

## December 25th, 2017

Rose had had the perfect Christmas. She had woken up to her father’s cinnamon rolls baking in the oven, and had a quiet morning exchanging gifts with her parents and her brother. Then they’d gotten dressed and headed to the Burrow, where they had a very loud afternoon. Rose’s annual sweater from Grandma Molly had been Ravenclaw blue with a bronze “R” in the middle. Rose hoped the blue trend would continue; all of her previous Weasley sweaters had been a fuschia color that clashed horribly with her hair. After dinner and a long good-bye, they had returned home and watched her mum’s favorite muggle Christmas movie, White Christmas. Rose and Hugo had put up a token protest, but the truth was that even though the movie wasn’t something she would normally love, she knew her mum used to watch it every year with Nana Jean, and she did enjoy the tradition of watching the same movie every year while they experimented with hot chocolate recipes. This year they hadn’t flavored the the hot chocolate itself, but they all stirred their mugs with candy canes, which Rose thought was a resounding success although Hugo had complained about the lack of mini marshmallows. Now she was in bed and supposed to be asleep, but for some reason she just couldn’t turn off her brain. Rose thought she had heard her parents’ footsteps disappear into their room some time earlier, so there couldn’t be any harm in sneaking down to the living room to try and sleep on the couch while looking at the lights on their Christmas tree. 

Rose quietly slipped down the hall and descended the stairs, expertly avoiding the spots of the floor that creaked the most. The trick was to keep close to the walls, and skip the third step from the bottom altogether. Rose had just hopped over that step and was nearly in the living room when she heard her mother’s tinkling laugh and froze. 

“Ron, is that your mistletoe from the shop?” At her mother’s question, Rose’s eyes got as wide as saucers. 

“Yes, you can’t move until you kiss me,” her father’s voice rumbled back. 

Rose hurried backwards, trying to rush back upstairs before her parents caught her interrupting them. 

_CREAK_. She forgot that she had just jumped over the third step. 

“Rosie?” came Hermione’s voice. 

“I’m just going back to bed, Mum!” Rose called, scurrying up the stairs. She dashed down the hall and practically dove back into her bed. That would teach her to go downstairs after bedtime! 

The floor outside her door creaked, and then the door cracked open, letting a beam of light illuminate a thin strip of the room. 

“I’m in bed!” Rose told her mum. 

The beam of light got wider and then abruptly disappeared as Hermione walked in and shut the door behind her. She sat down on the edge of the bed and nudged Rose with her hip. “Budge up,” she said, and Rose obligingly scooted over to the opposite edge of the single bed as Hermione shifted to lie down next to her. They each had to rotate and shift multiple times until they fit comfortably. Hermione laughed softly. “I guess you’re a little bigger than the last time we did this, huh?” she asked. 

Rose giggled too and snuggled close to her mother. “I missed you,” she admitted. 

Hermione breathed in deeply, inhaling the scent of her daughter’s hair. “I missed you too, Rosie. It’s so exciting to watch you grow up and go off to Hogwarts but home is just not quite right without you.” 

Rose snuggled closer. “I was a little worried that you guys would have realized you were better off without me while I was gone.”

Hermione hugged her tighter. “Never. We will always be better off _with_ you.” 

* * *

## December 26th, 2017

For the first time in years, Rose woke up with her mother. Despite being overheated from trying to fit two people in a bed meant for one, and the excess of hair in her face, it was the best night’s sleep she’d gotten all year. 


End file.
